Auburn Fire
by TheGoddamazon
Summary: Companion fic to "East of Toyama". If Anubis knew he was going to die, what exactly was he thinking leading up to his last breath? This was my take on it.


**Author's Note:** I was inspired by the pivotal scene when Anubis is seen revealing his past to Mia for the first (and last) time, as well as the scene where he dies in front of Kayura, so I started to type…this is the result. Feel free to review. This is sort of what I imagined Anubis must have been thinking in the moments leading up to the minute he knew he was going to die. This is a companion fic to East of Toyama. I had to get it all out and put it in the only place I knew it would go unpunished. Read and review. :D

**Auburn Fire**

By Shadovar

My duty was clear to me; long before I realized too little too late that it would cost me everything to fulfill it. I knew what I had to do as surely as the tides knew the pull of the moon, and I knew that this duty was weighed with the same inevitability of those tides.

I had to free Kayura from Talpa's iron grasp on her mind by any means necessary_._

How does one tell the one they love that what they want can never be? How could I tell Greyoko the moment we were parted, it would be the last time we would see each other ever again; that what she wanted of me…what I wanted to give to her, would never be? I had prepared myself for the battle to come, as I had prepared for innumerable battles before that, and as I gripped the Shakujo for what may have been the last time, I came to the realization that I had lived entirely too long. My time here had long since ended, and I lingered like a stone lodged stubbornly in a churning river, refusing to move forward, yet forever looking at what came before.

_1580 CE_

"Master Douji, I have urgent news from the front." I had been on the war path, still new to the blood-letting that came with it, still raw from shouting orders…still heady with the excitement that preceded a hard-won victory. I looked up from the map I was surveying, marking two points with my ink-smudged fingers, fixing my second lieutenant with a measuring gaze. I did not have to speak at this point. These were my father's men, and therefore, since my father was too old to lead, they were _my _men.

"The men have met with resistance from Oboro's armies in the south. They are besieged in Tsuba Valley Fortress. The rations are low and if we do not send aid soon, they will begin to succumb to hunger." I said nothing for a moment. In those days, there was relatively little to be said, and much to be done. We had triumphed here in the north, but I would not turn my army's back on a freshly conquered territory and risk insurrection. I had to think.

"How much aid do they need?" I demanded at last. My second lieutenant, Hotsuma was his name, hesitated, and I saw a lump move in his throat as he swallowed.

"They've lost half their men in battle and would need twice our number to—" I slammed my armored fist into the table.

"Twice our number! What did I send them to the south for if not to win?" I was easily angered, as the men well knew, but this was outrageous. Tsuba Valley should have been easy to conquer—simple! It was inhabited by simple peasant folk for Amaterasu's sake! I shut my eyes and when I opened them, I saw the color momentarily return to Hotsuma's face.

"Alright. Inform the men, we march at dawn." Hotsuma hesitated but the look on my face implored that my orders were simply that: orders. I never made suggestions, because I never lost.

And if I had known in that moment, that going to Tsuba Valley would be the greatest and worst milestone of my entire life, I would have let my men die there.

It was raining, and the rain did not stop. It leaked between my armor plates and soaked the cloth beneath, making me damp and itchy. My hair itched beneath my horned helm, and I had not bathed in what seemed like ages. The men at my back look just a bedraggled, but they marched with determination in their steps, some on foot, and others on horseback. I had left the wounded behind in the care of what physicians we could spare. I may have been half-mad with arrogance due to my luck in the battlefield, but I knew the cost of not having a physician attendant on the field. I am not entirely sure what my true rationale was for that decision then, but in retrospect, I knew that I only kept a physician because a man that could be saved was a man that could live to fight for me again. I needed as many bodies as could be spared for my conquests and my men's lives were to me what mortal lives were to the gods themselves.

It is no small wonder Talpa was able to seduce me with promises of being just that.

At a livelier pace, the march to Tsuba would have taken us five days, but with this infernal weather and the men already worn out from the last battle, it took us a full seven days to reach Tsuba, and gods forgive me, but I hoped that we were already too late. I saw smoke rising from the valley, and ordered the men to stop. We would make camp quietly, and not risk alerting any sentries posted on the lookout for our standard. The men were grateful to rest, and I called Hotsuma and Daisuke to my tent, where I would give orders on how best to truly make this battle like hammer and anvil for Oboro.

"He is foolish," Daisuke said silkily, "he will not expect you to spare your entire army to come and rescue so small a regiment. He will underestimate you." I knew Daisuke was just playing the sycophant, but I listened anyway, until Hotsuma countered.

"I do not think Oboro became the general he is by being foolish," Hotsuma said gently. Hotsuma was close to my age, mayhap older, with hair bound always in a tight queue at the nape of his neck. He was larger than I was, built more like a fortress where I was a bamboo swaying in the breeze by comparison. He may have looked like he could be easily overtaken by a faster enemy, but he was my second lieutenant for a reason. I had seen him fight, and it was brutal to any that found themselves on the receiving end of his violence. For all that, he was as gentle and peaceful as a summer breeze. He only did battle when it was necessary, which Daisuke considered a waste of the man's considerable strength. Daisuke himself was a good fighter, slightly younger than I, and built similarly to me. The only thing about Daisuke was that he resembled an insect…a very oily insect. But he, like me, loved the taste of battle.

"If he does not believe we are coming to save this regiment, then why has he not bothered to close in and end the siege. He could have easily have done so long before our arrival. I believe he has planned something for us." I crossed my arms, looking at the detailed map of Tsuba Valley. It was not a large valley, more like a small fissure between two high mountains with steep cliffs. As of right now, we had the advantage of darkness, fog, and the high ground. If our sentries returned to inform us Oboro was camped below, we would strike at daybreak and end the siege.

However, if Hotsuma was right, and Oboro had been planning to lay in wait for me, then having the high ground would be pointless and we were walking into a trap. I did not care, because I would win, as I always had.

I was sure of it.

Hotsuma was right, although it was not quite exactly as he said.

I sent in archers to slay Oboro's sentries and take their places hidden in the cliff sides. They were in place and at dawn we were to begin our assault. I had resumed my armor, and ignored my helm. I wanted them to see my hair, which was an unusual color for Japan in those days; a fierce auburn color that was said to shine like fire in the sun. It made me proud to think that my enemies would see that on the battlefield and know that their end was near. Of course, in those days, it was so easy to be wrong.

When dawn began to creep into the valley and the fog began to lift…we made our assault. At first things were going well and it seemed as if Daisuke was right and that Oboro had grown fat and lazy in thinking I would not come for him with men besieged in the stronghold. And then, the tide began to turn as I realized that the trap Hotsuma spoke of had been laid with deep-laid care.

We had been betrayed.

It was not an instant betrayal, for if it had been I would have written it off as expedient for the men beleaguered in the fortress, but it wasn't. This had been a long time coming. Oboro had not besieged the men at all, and had only made it to look as if he had. Later, I would have a chance to confront the deepest betrayal, but I would no longer be who I was on this night when I realized that all my men had been bought and sold for the price of my life. Hotsuma was the closest thing I had to a true friend in those days. I had become estranged from my family and while the men obeyed me out of respect for my father, they had betrayed me for precisely the same reason. I did not know until later just how deep the well of Hotsuma's hatred for me ran.

It began with the rear guard of my men, who had begun to retreat and died under Oboro blades. Those men that remained loyal to me were bewildered as my own army began to turn on itself. Oboro's men had begun to drive their wedge between me and my rear guard, cutting us off to surround us. We fought on.

How long I fought, I cannot say. I had seen the betrayal, had not wanted to believe it, and I fought anyway, until the hilts of my katana were slippery with blood and bodies crowded the muddy ground, lessening the footing I had to work with. My horse had been slain hours ago—gods had it only been hours?—and my armor was splashed with mud and blood alike.

"Hotsuma!" I cried. Hotsuma must have been cut off from me. I hoped he was not slain, and in that moment it was because he was the only man on the field I trusted in that instant. I was fast but he was faster; but I had the element of cruelty on my side. He would hesitate to strike down one of our own men, to shocked at the betrayal to do aught else; I would not hesitate.

Eventually, it was sheer numbers that overwhelmed, and I took a hilt to the back of my head, regretting an instant too late that I had left my behind.

I awoke to find that night had fallen. My head pounded a painful cadence, and when I tried to reach up to feel the wound in my skull I discovered that my hands had been bound. In a moment of furious panic, I began to struggle, wriggling in the darkness only to find my legs were bound in a similar fashion. I tried to discern where I was, but it was too dark to see. I searched for the sky, and found it…behind an iron-grate window.

I was in a cell.

I saw torchlight moving outside, heard the hushed whispers outside of men's voices. I called out to them; heard the whispers fall into silence…saw torchlight moving toward the grated window, and heard a key turning in the lock. As the door swung open I looked upon the face of my captors, the foremost amongst them being Oboro Ida himself.

"So this is the prodigal son of the Douji clan." He said, and sounded amused as the men lit the torch ensconces on the walls. Oboro was much older than I, with a thin black mustache and a well-kempt goatee. His salt and pepper hair was clean and washed—a mark of his nobility, and the fact that he no longer needed to ride with his men into the throes of battle. He did not look upon me with disdain, merely disgust.

"I must admit, when your father petitioned me for aid against his own son, I was shocked. After all, was it not you parading around Nippon claiming to be bringing your family honor?" Oboro laughed. "Ah gods, did you think you could run around playing warlord and not expect retribution?" I stared, mouth agape. He looked satisfied.

"And what's more, is that once I have eliminated this problem for your shamed family, they will be eliminated as well. The shogun has countenanced it himself. You could have saved them, if only you had taken a humbler route."

"You will rue this day, Oboro!" I shouted. "You will rue this day and you will beg me to kill you before I'm done!" Oboro looked at me impassively and shook his head with a derisive chuckle.

"You are in no position to make threats, Shuten Douji," he said, "and at dawn your death will establish a long-coveted peace in this region. You've terrorized the countryside long enough."

That night, Hotsuma came to my cell.

"Why?" I asked him, my voice raw. Hotsuma said nothing, his handsome face unreadable. He had lived, and it was he who had given the order for the betrayal to begin.

"Why?" He echoed thoughtfully, and then scowled at me. "I could not stand idly by and watch your penchant for cruelty deepen, dragging honorable men around Nippon to play war as if they were merely toys. I could not let your shame extend to the rest of us. You are blight upon the Douji name, and you are blight upon Nippon. I had to stop you somehow." I stared at him, unable to form words.

"Why did you not simply speak against it? Hotsuma you know I always listen to you, I would have reconsidere—" Hotsuma shook his head with a laugh, sounding helpless and furious all at once.

"Shuten! Gods, Shuten! You have not listened to me since you ordered that poor fishing village burned to the ground for daring to renounce your family's sovereignty. You would have had me killed for speaking against you, I knew it and the men knew it too. We bided our time, although it sickened us to follow a madman into battle. Oboro offered us a chance to clear our names—and your father offered us a chance to save face for the sins we have committed on your behalf."

I stared at the ground, disbelieving.

That was the first time Talpa whispered to me in the night. No, that is a lie. Talpa had whispered to me the night I burned that village down. He wore my voice, and I mistook it for the gods directing my path. Hotsuma looked down at me.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you would recant if you could; and not just to save your own skin—that's impossible—but tell me the truth: would you recant if you could?" I looked up at him sharply. Our eyes met briefly and he shut his eyes in resignation.

"Very well then." He murmured and turned to leave.

Talpa came to me that night, for it was no accident that I was spared. He had always manifested in the whispers of my subconscious, but he had deigned me ready to accept him in full. I was lying on the cold ground of my cell, unable to sleep. Instead, I pondered, wondering where everything had gone so horribly awry. The wind whistled through the trees and a light rain had begun to fall. I would die a dishonorable death, would never be given a proper burial, and my soul would wander the earth forevermore. It would be a miserable eternity, for I would never find peace.

_"And what peace would you expect to find amongst these foolish mortals, Shuten Douji?" _I sat up sharply, wary of my bindings, which were tight and bruising. I glanced around.

"Who's there?" I demanded, my voice hoarse, my lips dry and cracked from lack of water. There was a sound that could have been easily mistaken for laughter…or a winter breeze rustling through dead leaves. The air around me shimmered and that's when I saw Talpa for the first time.

_"There is cruelty in you, Shuten Douji, and it runs deep. Why waste your potential on these fools who cannot appreciate that you deserve all the respect and power you have because you saw fit to take it?" _The large demon helm reasoned. I had only been imprisoned for…for three days; surely I was hallucinating.

_"Not a hallucination, Shuten Douji, but a way out of the misery of the mortal coil."_

That got my attention. I stared at the helm, still shocked, but finding my voice.

"You offer me immortality…and power. At what price?" I heard the raspy sound again; the demon was laughing at me.

_"You are smart to ask such things, Shuten," _it said to him, _"the price is this: pledge your loyalty to me. Remand yourself to my service—as my own Warlord—and all the power in this world and the next is yours. That is my price, Shuten Douji. You have until dawn to decide." _I sat in that cell and gods knew I weighed the pros and cons in my mind. I could die in four hours, or I could give up my life here and serve this demon that made an offer so sweet I could taste it in the dryness of my mouth.

For three and a half hours I deliberated on the decision I was faced with, even when I was led out into the field for my execution by Hotsuma himself, who handled me with impersonal roughness. He had severed any bond we had—and I admittedly regretted having alienated him. He was an honorable man, but he had betrayed me.

And there was my promise to Oboro I had made the night of my capture.

As I was shoved to my knees in the ground, I made my decision.

Sunlight glinted off of katana of the Oboro executioner, and I braced myself as it came down…

…and never struck.

Shouts erupted from the encampment and arrows blotted out the sky, striking down the unprepared army. I heard commands shouted, saw men scrambling to assemble to a more defensible position, and saw the terrifying army that poured into the valley like a wave.

Oh it was magnificent.

The army slaughtered with ruthless efficiency, striking down any and every man that dared to try and defend themselves, and those that did not. I saw Oboro and Douji standards alike erected, but erected too late. I lay on the muddy earth, as hooves trampled around me, shouts and the grating of steel on steel, the tearing of flesh from the bone as vicious weapon found their mark. The soldiers of this demonic army wore armor of pewter gray with a greenish tint, and they flew the standard of an unfamiliar sovereign.

Talpa had heard my answer, and he had come to collect me.

I searched for Hotsuma, and never found him. Some part of me hoped he survived; hoped he survive so I could kill him for his betrayal. Later, I would lament that I wanted this at all, for he was the only man who had ever looked out for my well-being. One of the soldiers—who was the leader by his golden armor—reined in his mount before me.

"You are Shuten Douji." He said, and it sounded more like an affirmation than an inquiry. I nodded carefully and he called out to one of his men, who brought a horse around. They cut my bindings and I stood wearily and mounted.

"You are to come with us to the Netherworld to meet Master Talpa." The golden leader said as we rode out of the valley. I had heard the moans of the dying after a battle, but this was altogether different. You see, when Dynasty _youtja _are sent into battle, they leave no one alive. It is Talpa's way, so that any who sought to defy him simply did not. There were no moans of the dying on this battlefield, nothing moved save the carrion birds that circled overhead to feast. I wondered if Hotsuma and Oboro were among the twisted corpses in Tsuba Valley. I wondered if they had died…

For I knew that Shuten Douji certainly had.

The Netherworld was endless and it was undeniably beautiful. When we had passed through the gates, I had expected a world blighted by death and suffering, and instead I found a place of unsurpassed beauty and elegance. It was a kingdom right out of a folktale, and everything glittered like gold. I took it in with weary eyes, marveling even at the golden waters that stretched endlessly in all directions and the lotus flowers that bloomed and floated serenely on its shallow surface.

"This is the City of Dreams," the _youtja _leader explained to me, not surprised at my wonderment. "It is where others are given all they desire in return for fealty to Master Talpa."

"And it is where I will be given what I was promised, I am guessing." I said wryly. The Dynasty soldier laughed, and I wondered briefly if there was any flesh beneath that armor from the raspy sound.

"Master Talpa has somewhat special planned for you. Beyond that, what you desire depends on if he is pleased with you or not." I did not like the sound of that, as it seemed this Talpa could rescind his promise on a whim, but I had made my decision and had I not, I would be dead.

We rode toward the large castle in the center of the City, and they admitted us without complaint. I saw people bustling about and was surprised that the place operated like any other kingdom. Talpa was lord and master of all, here, and these people obeyed him without question. There were slaves, of course—people who had defied Talpa and lived to regret it for eternity—and there was a surprisingly large variety of them. There were those that were demons and those that were human but not quite. There were plenty of humans, who were strange looking and very un-Japanese. Evidently, Talpa had been all over the world and not just the one I had inhabited. As our mounts were taken, the Dynasty soldier spoke to two demure looking women in simple robes, and they bowed low, and held that pose until he had left.

"You are to come with these two, Lord Douji" one said and she did not even glance up out of curiosity—so strong was Talpa's will on this place that the slightest sign of disobedience could (and would) be punished severely. I followed them as they moved soundlessly through the ornate halls, and in an effort to keep up and not get lost, I vowed to come and inspect the tapestries on the walls and all the other accoutrements of the place that was to be my new home. The two servants shuffled to a large door where they opened it into one of the most luxuriously appointed bedchambers I had ever seen.

"Gods…" I whispered in wonder. Talpa was already delivering on his promise and I was liking the benefits of my loyalty to him, but when I glanced at the servants—and later took stock of the slaves—I knew that there was a deeper pitfall for recanting one's pledge of loyalty.

"These two have had the honor of running a hot bath for you. Shall they fetch a bath slave for Lord Douji's pleasure?" I blinked, noticing what had been bothering me before.

"Why do you not address yourselves?" I demanded. I saw the two servants tremble as they kept their heads bowed. I had not even seen their faces. They did not answer me and merely left the room soundlessly, the door clicking shut behind them. I was alone in my new bedchamber, and I decided I needed a bath. If I was to meet with Talpa, I would do it as a man of nobility and not a bedraggled, deposed war-prince. I began to undress, shedding my battered armor and torn clothing and taking stock of the scars both old and new that peppered my body: an old gouge-wound on my thigh from a spear that had been lucky enough to hit me. The wound would have taken septic if not for Hotsuma's care. Across my chest was a ragged scar that had come from one of my first battles. I had lost my breast plate in the skirmish, and a sword had lanced across my flesh, parting it like gauze. It had mortified as it was poorly stitched that day, and it had grown angry and swollen.

Hotsuma had saved me from that, too.

I began to see why he hated me so for becoming what I was, but it did not excuse his betrayal.

I found the bathing chamber, the pool of the marble tub heated by a series of underground piping that carried heated water from the ground. I sank into the bath with a gratified sigh and proceeded to cleanse myself with the available soaps and oils, taking extra time to scrub the grime out of my hair until it shone like flame in the flickering torchlight.

"Does it please you, my lord?" Said a voice, husky and seductive, yet demure and obedient. I turned sharply toward the ingress that led into the bathing chamber, and I saw what the two servants had been referring to when they said 'bath slave'. I had thought they meant someone to assist me in bathing, for I had heard of such individuals. But this…this woman was built to pleasure those she served, and there was no arguing that fact.

"Yes…" I said slowly. She was tall, and she wasn't from Nippon—a true _gaijin_. Her hair shone dark brown in the torchlight, her eyes were hazel and her skin was not pale, but a sun-kissed gold, almost brown. She disrobed, and I sucked in a breath. It was not that I had never been with a woman before. I had women aplenty since I was old enough to feel anything for them, but this woman was built for pleasure, as I have said. She was voluptuous, clearly having never known the lifestyle of a warrior. Everything about her was soft and supple, with full breasts tipped with dusky nipple. A delicate golden chain clung to her waist which was soft from a lifestyle of licentious luxury. Below that was a soft patch of dark curls between her thighs. She had wide hips, and I found myself thinking she had borne children before, for no mere girl could be built so. When she took a step forward I heard the soft chime of bells and found she wore ankle bracelets. Her feet were dainty, her toes red with a dye called henna. Where Talpa had found this woman, I do not know, but I wondered if all women were like her where she came from.

She stood at the edge of the tub and took one step and began to submerge.

"Master Talpa wants to make sure you are comfortable before you meet with him on the morrow, my lord. I have been ordered to pleasure you this night." She smiled slightly, and I knew that she was fully aware that the sight of her titillated me. The water stopped at her waist, and she stopped just a hand's span away from me.

"I see Master Talpa likes to assure that his promises are kept in full." I mused as she straddled me. Her head came down and our lips met. She was a gods damned courtesan, had likely pleasured innumerable men during her tenure in the Netherworld, but she had perfected her art, for what could you call the way she made blood run hot in my veins anything but art?

She was an artist, and I was her canvas. She plied her skills with aplomb and by the end—by the time we had finally moved to the great bed in my bedchamber—I was replete, reclining on the cushions and feather-stuffed pillows as she curled beside me. Some time later, she rose and slipped back into the robe she had been wearing. When she moved to leave, I caught her by the arm.

"Stay." I ordered. She smiled, and gracefully removed my hand.

"The night is over, my lord, but you may call upon me when you…" She looked me over, "…regain your strength." With that, she breezed out of the room and left only the scent of sex and her perfume in the tangled bedsheets.

Thus passed my first night in the Netherworld.

Master Talpa called upon me that afternoon, but in the Netherworld it was hard to tell because there was no day or night, no sense of time passing at all. How the courtesan had known I did not know, but I assumed I would figure it out as I acclimated to this new residence. I stood before Talpa, appointed in rich robes and attired much like a dignitary than the warrior I had been when he found me. Here in the Netherworld, he did not manifest in the ghostly demon helm that had haunted me the night he made hi promise; he took physical form. He was vast! Vaster than I had reckoned, and he sat upon a throne of jade, armored and armed to the teeth…if he had any, for I could not see a face beneath the demon helm.

**WELCOME TO THE DYNASTY, SHUTEN DOUJI. **Talpa's voice boomed in and out of my skull, and I struggled to comprehend it. That same raspy laugh that had sounded so much like wind rustling dry leaves was magnified, as he was amused by my awe.

**YOU SEE ME NOW, AS I TRULY AM. I HAVE COME TO OFFER YOU THE NEXT PART OF MY GIFT TO YOU. DID YOU ENJOY VANHI? SHE IS THE CHIEF COURTESAN OF THE PALACE. SHE HAS BEEN WITH US FOR OVER FOUR HUNDRED YEARS.**

I rocked back on my heels, truly reeling from what I was hearing. I tried to find my voice, tried to find an answer. At least I knew the woman's name. A woman who could make pleasure last as long as she willed. It was no small wonder she was so exceedingly good at what she did—she'd been at it for four centuries!

"She was…she was very pleasing to me, Master Talpa," I said at last, clearing my throat, "but what is the other part of your promise to me? I have been given a richly-appointed chamber in your palace, have been pleasured by the chief courtesan, and now I feel as if you are about to state the true price of your offer."

Laughter.

**SHUTEN DOUJI, YOU ARE CLEVER, AND IT IS THAT THINKING THAT WILL SERVE YOU WELL HERE IN THE NETHERWORLD. I AM OFFERING YOU THE POSITION AS MY WARLORD—MY WARLORD OF CRUELTY. YOU WILL BE GIVEN POWERS BEYOND YOUR WILDEST DREAMS AND YOU WILL LEAD MY FORCES ACROSS THE WORLDS IN CONQUEST; AS YOU WERE MEANT TO.** I wanted to say 'no'—I _should have _said 'no'.

But instead I smirked, realizing that this would be my chance to truly show the world—any world—why you did not betray me and live.

"I accept. I will do your bidding, so long as I get Vanhi again. So long as this power you have promised me will never run dry." Talpa laughed again and held up his hand. It was illuminated in red light and it shot out in streams to swirl before me. I saw the silhouette of the armor that would define me for the rest of my immortal life.

I saw the armor that should have represented Spring—the season into which I was born.

Instead, when I looked upon that armor, it would represent cruelty and all the evil I would do in Talpa's name. I reached forward to touch it. It seemed so ordinary in that moment, for no one had worn it for a very long time. Talpa watched me. I took up the helm and tentatively placed it upon my head. Instantly, there was a flash of red light. My robes burned under the glow, and was replaced by light blue armor—this was what I came to understand was sub-armor. I saw a glimpse of it before the armor before me vanished.

I was wearing it. I was wearing the Armor of Cruelty.

It should have weighed heavily on me, but I felt nothing; I felt as if I were wearing the lightest silk, and I looked down at my hands and observed the armor now that flesh filled it. Gods above, I had never felt such power.

**YOU BEGIN TO UNDERSTAND WHAT IT IS I HAVE BEQUEATHED YOU. **Talpa said, his voice unusually grave, but there was amusement beneath it. I looked up, the face-mask of my armor parting to allow me to speak. It obeyed my commands so easily, as if it were made specifically for me.

"Yes, Master Talpa, I begin to understand."

_Earth Year: 1798 CE_

_Sukufan Year: Fourth Goddess Cycle_

I had served Talpa with alacrity, and everything he had said I would have, I had. I had power, I had prestige, had respect that when I was a mortal I never had. I had even helped to recruit three men into our ranks to fill the remaining three armors. One had to be broken considerably, and then Talpa infused him with the spirit of a serpent so that the Armor of Venom would not kill him. I never learned his true name—we never knew one another's true names. I had dropped my family name, because Shuten Douji had died. I was Anubis, Warlord of Cruelty. We worked tirelessly for Talpa's goals, and he had set his sights on robbing the cradles of empires that bore inherently magical children. Having sent scouts out, he discovered the Illiyan Realms and immediately wanted to launch an attack.

The Illiyan Realms were three kingdoms on a large, mostly-ocean planet, but Talpa had set his sights on Sukufan, where a child of power was born. There were two, but the first-born had half of what he wanted; the ferocity of Sukufan's neighbors, the Mir'Ajans, but the graceful temperament to keep that bloodlust under control. For all that, the girl had a weak heart and would not have lived to see her tenth summer were it not for the deal Talpa struck with Sukufan's queen, Ya'kini.

How do I describe Sukufan to one who has never been?

It is a lot like Earth, I suppose, but there is something else that seems so inherent to the land. Magic exists on Earth as a mythic force that very few can tap into, and even then can not utilize its full potential. In Sukufan the people practically breathed magic from their very lungs. They appeared human, but there were two distinct classes. Those of nobility had a more advanced proficiency in magic than those of middle and lower classes.

We wanted the one called Ansequia.

I led the initial strike against Sukufan, and while they had not been prepared for us, they were not easily rattled, having two hostile nations to the east and north.

**BRING ME THE ONE CALLED ANSEQUIA, **Talpa ordered the four of us, **IF YOU CANNOT TAKE YA'KINI ALIVE, THEN KILL HER…AND EVERYONE ELSE IN SUKUFAN. LEAVE NONE ALIVE.**

It should have been easy, for they had no armor to counter us. There was one enemy we were meant to be pitted against with a real chance for losing and that enemy had not been born yet.

However, one does not underestimate the Guardians of Sukufan, who were called upon by Ya'kini in desperation. Her army had dwindled, the numbers decimated based on their lack of preparedness. The Guardian came in to fight us, but there were only four at the time. At that time, Greyoko—the second-born—had not made the decision to become one of them. And Ansequia, as I came to understand, despised Sukufan.

Ya'kini finally surrendered her, but we had our orders. We took them both, and left our army to destroy everything else. The Guardians eventually drove us out, and the second-born, the runt of the litter, was lost. Nevertheless, Sukufan would take many decades to recover from the damage that was done, and during that time they would be vulnerable to their natural enemies. We had what we came for, and so we left.

Ansequia had been given into Sekhmet's handling by Talpa, who wanted me to break Ya'kini.

I enjoyed that far more than I am comfortable with admitting freely.

Ya'kini had been a warrior in her heyday, but she was a queen bloodied by overthrow. She repulsed me with her weakness, repulsed me with the way she pleaded and begged and attempted to cajole me into releasing Ansequia. I told her that Ansequia was no longer her concern. I had my way with her a few times, but when she realized that she had lost the fight went out of her. She had been beautiful once, and because of Ansequia's heritage, I could see very little resemblance between the two, but later, when I would meet Greyoko in battle, I would remember this face.

Talpa ordered me to kill Ya'kini, and I did.

It was an uneventful death, done in the filthy darkness of a dungeon, where I snapped her neck. I would never forget her face, forever locked in a sorrowful expression that fate had dealt her a gruesome hand, and she had folded in the worst way.

For her part, Ansequia was pleased that she was finally free of her obligations to Sukufan as the first-born, and Talpa made the same promise to her as he had to me. She would not be given any mystical armor, but she and one other child—Kayura—would be rewarded with limitless freedom and prestige for their loyalty. Sekhmet continued to train Ansequia, while Kayura received individual training from the four of us. I suspected Sekhmet was fond of Ansequia even in those early days, for I knew he doted on her. He had always retained some semblance of his humanity, and he excused Ansequia's cruel practical jokes with a dismissive wave of his hand, citing that she was merely a child.

I learned to ignore her, although as she grew I could not. Her power was fearsome and under Talpa's control she was an unstoppable weapon. Kayura had taken more convincing, but when Ansequia finally became…unmanageable…she made a far better replacement.

The time came when the Ronins were born; the moment Talpa had been waiting for. He had been looking for the other five armors to bring into the Netherworld; but Kaos had hidden them well from his roving eye. He had to wait until the Shadowland prophecy came to pass—until five young boys were chosen by the armor to fight against us.

As the leader, I was sent to fight them first, and they fell easily beneath my power. They were inexperienced with their armor, and so their attacks were weak. They had not utilized their potential, but I had had centuries of practice. My armor was as much apart of me as I was of it by this time. I gloated, of course, but something had already happened before the Ronins had come to thwart us. You see, Ansequia had not become unmanageable, as Talpa had declared she was and sealed her away in a tower in the Netherworld. Some time before, perhaps a century or more, she had passed into the mortal world without permission, and since Talpa was weakened by his battle with Kaos during that time, Ansequia was the most powerful among us who can open a gate between the worlds. Talpa had bid us wait until he had amassed his power before we began our assault. Ansequia was impatient, and went ahead.

There, she had met Kaos.

What passed between them, I will never know, but she was gone for a handful of decades. Talpa sought her out but could find no trace of her. We thought Kaos had destroyed her, but it was not his way. He banished evil, but he never destroyed—that was the Ronins' job—the monk was forbidden to do violence. Whatever he had done to Ansequia, when she returned, she was changed somehow. Her temperament had improved, and she was not as prone to violence as she had been previously. She spoke of things she had seen Kaos do, things she had observed in the mortal world, and while we were fascinated, we dared not show it lest Master Talpa punish us as well.

When she argued with Talpa about the intent of his conquest, and the point of it, he immediately summoned Badammon to seal her away. She fought, but her power was far more diminished than before she left us. Evidently, she had aided Kaos in his wanderings, which is why he had shielded her from Talpa's gaze. No doubt he had offered her a chance at redemption, and fearful, she had recanted and returned to us, but she was tainted.

And when I met Kaos for the second time, I became tainted too according to the others, but we all were.

Ansequia had sparked something us, had shown us something we had forgotten.

Our humanity.

_Present Day_

So how would I tell Greyoko that this was my last battle, that this was my last breath? How would I tell her I was sorry I could not be what she hoped I would become if I had survived? I knew as well as Kayura what would become of our battle, and when we fought, when our fight broke away from the others, I knew.

I think Greyoko knew too, but she did not stop me.

Kayura had been possessed by Badammon, because Ryo had inadvertently broken one of the chains that bound her to Talpa. Like Ansequia, she was seeing that perhaps Talpa's promises were simply sweetened poison and not the unlimited treats he had made them out to be.

I fought Kayura, and she wounded me. Instinctively, I had called upon my armor to protect me, because I would need it to strike her down if I could not save her.

The Shakujo and my armor worked in tandem, but it was not enough. Badammon had succeeded in sealing away Ansequia, who was destruction made flesh, and he possessed Kayura, whose power had not even been tapped to full potential. I would need more power.

So I made of myself a vessel where my self was not.

I poured myself into Kayura, willing my stronger spirit to drive out Badammon, who—once out of Kayura's body—would be instantly destroyed by the Shakujo. It worked, but I would pay a heavy price for it.

Kayura wore my armor, now, and I wore Kaos' robes, leaning against the bridge railing trying not to throw up. Blood seeped between my fingers and I saw the light begin to fade. Was it finally getting dark in the Netherworld? No, that was impossible. Time stopped here.

"Anubis?" Kayura's voice was filled with wonder and clarity. I smiled at her.

"You're free…you've come back to us, Kayura…" I breathed and felt myself slipping downward, toward the water, that golden water I knew so well, with its lotus blossoms and glittering surface. The City of Dreams, where so much suffering had been countenanced at my hands; I wondered if Hotsuma had found peace in death, if he had forgiven me before the end. I wondered what had become of Vanhi, whom I had not seen since leaving the Dynasty.

I wondered if Greyoko knew I—


End file.
